S. R. Faruqi:

bhart = a mixed substance
gaṛvā = a small pot for drawing water

To call the body something shaped in a mold is a common theme. Mir himself has used it in several more places. In the fourth divan [{1495,3}]:

ḍol bayāñ kyā koʾī kare us vaʿdah-ḳhilāf kī dehī kā
ḍhāl ke sāñche meñ ṣāniʿ ne vuh tarkīb banāʾī hai

[how could anyone describe the swaying of that vow-breaker's body
having cast it in a mold, the Creator has made that form]

In the sixth divan [{1903,4}]:

itnī suḍol dehī dekhī nah ham sunī hai
tarkīb us kī goyā sāñche meñ gaʾī hai ḍhālī

[such a shapely/curvy body, we have neither seen nor heard of
her form has been, so to speak, cast in a mold]

Then various poets (probably in imitation of Mir) have tried to versify the theme in Mir's style. Mus'hafi:

tarkīb ko dekh us ke ḳhvush-uslūb badan kī
jaise kih vuh sāñche se abhī ḍhāl diyā hai

[look at the form of her well-arranged body
as if it had just now been cast in a mold]

Atish:

dast-e qudrat ne banāyā hai tujhe ai maḥbūb
aisā ḍhālā huʾā sāñche meñ badan hai kis kā

[the hand of Nature has made you, oh beloved
who else has a body so cast in a mold?]

Ali Ausat Rashk:

ḍhāle huʾe haiñ sāñche meñ yih bhī badan kī t̤arḥ
hargiz sunār ne tire zevar ghaṛe nahīñ

[even/also these have been cast in a mold, like the body
a goldsmith absolutely did not sculpt your jewelry]

In Rashk's verse the theme of jewelry is enjoyable. Atish's verse has nothing but bland verbosity. Now let's consider: a theme that many poets have versified, and that Mir himself has versified at least twice more-- in the present verse, to what a height Mir lifted it!

First of all, look at the word dehī -- it not only is fresh, but also offers a homey, physical pleasure. This word is not suitable for the bodies of ladies, nor for those of young girls. Its correct use is for the bodies of women who are seen in daily life, working and performing tasks, where something of veiledness and something of unveiledness come together to recall Roland Barthes' saying that the pleasure of those parts of the body that are kept hidden is that the body should also be somewhat naked.

The word suḍol in {1903,4} is fine, but in the present verse by saying bhart kā gaṛvā such a strange and extraordinary simile has been brought together that even a wide-thinking poet who was also a master of homey affairs, like Shakespeare, could hardly have come up with it. The metal bhart (pronounced both bhart and bha-rat ) is made from a mixture of zinc, lead, and copper. Thus its color is a greenish red. Naji probably had it in mind when he composed, and well composed:

vuh saa;Nvlaa vuh sabzaa vuh gandamii vuh goraa
mujh naqd-e dil ko jiitaa ab makr kar kisii ne

[that brown one, that green, that wheatish, that white
someone has now won, through trickery, the coins of my heart]

The word gaṛvā [with several slightly different idiomatic pronunciations] is used for a small vessel for drinking or storing water that has the form of a small pot, but its neck is a bit long. Maulvi Zafar ul-Rahman ( farhang-e iṣt̤ilāḥāt-e peshah-varāñ , vol. 3) has said that Delhi's ḍoñgiyā , and the ḍaboliyā , and the gaṛvā are the same thing. That is, a small pot with a shapely/curvy, rounded, hollow form. (The picture of it in the farhang shows that it has a handle too, but with us the gaṛvā / gaṛvī may also be handle-less.) In any case, its shape recalls that of [an upside-down version of] the abstract symbol for a woman's body: [[SRF gives the sign upside-down, so that it looks a bit like a pot]]. That is, a girl somewhat curvy, small-statured, slender/shapely of body, with a green-golden complexion, Mir has called a bhart kā gaṛvā .

Such a simile can be brought out only by someone whose vision is remorseless, whose imagination is unchecked, and whose mind and thought are rooted in everyday life. Mus'hafi, when referring to the body, had power over sensory, visual, every kind of image-- but this kind of homey image, and that too such an uncommon one, was miles beyond his reach. Thus in his verse there are excellent words like tarkīb and ḳhvush-uslūb , but their rareness is expected. A word of unexpected rarity like gaṛvā was not in his treasury of words.

The word bhart is also used for a collection of coins of small value, which if taken together would be worth a whole rupee. That is, in this meaning of bhart too there's roundness and resemblance, since all the coins have the common feature that when brought together they would become a whole rupee. Similarly, the body too can be such that possibly no separate part of it would have any particular beauty, but if they'd all be brought together, then a Doomsday-turmoil would arise.

In the second line, the word tarkīb supports this reading. For tarkīb dādan means [in Persian] 'to give a shape to something, to make something' (Steingass). Mir has also used tarkīb very beautifully in

{1460,3}.

In the second line se can mean 'about', and is a translation of the Persian az , as is the case in Abu Talib Kalim's [Persian] verse that we have already seen noted in {1450,5}. In the present verse the insha'iyah structure of both lines is very fine-- first a negative rhetorical question, and then the reply. That is, the answer to the question is not possible-- yet he's also given a reply. Is it a verse, or is it a miracle of meaning, and poetic power, and versification? However many verses on this theme we've seen above, none of them has this feature-- that the matter of being cast in a mold would have an 'informative' [ḳhabariyah] structure, and its frame (or introduction) would be insha'iyah.

The word tarkīb Mir has also used very well in the second divan, but there the insha'iyah style of the second line, and the clumsiness of the refrain ( hāʾe re ), have overcome the beauty of the tarkīb [{973,7}]:

rījhne hī ke hai qābil yār kī tarkīb mīr
vāh vā re chashm-o-abrū qadd-o-qāmat hāʾe re

[the form of the beloved is worthy to be only/emphatically enjoyed
bravo, eye and eyebrow! height and stature-- oh my!]

In this verse it's in any case evident that Mir has used tarkīb in the sense of 'composition'.

[See also {885,5}.]

FWP:

SETS == EK
MOTIFS
NAMES
TERMS == FRESH WORD; INSHA'IYAH; THEME

Here's another example of how valuable it is to have commentary from an ustad like SRF. When I initially read the verse, I took dehī to mean simply 'body' or 'embodied person', the way Platts indeed presents it. This is a perfectly defensible reading, and yields a meditation on the mysteries of the Creator-- how God arranges for us to have such complex and capable bodies, like a skilful artisan who combines many kinds of metals into an elaborate special-purpose amalgam. The ik becomes particularly significant on this reading, since it offers us various ways to think about our alloyed, 'embodied' status.

But SRF supplies the view that in his own cultural region dehī is used for women's bodies, and in fact chiefly for those of adult women who move and work in the world. His explanation of gaṛvā too adds color and specificity to the idea of a long-necked water-pot. Both the sexual specificy of dehī , and the 'homey' [gharelū] nuances of gaṛvā , wonderfully enrich what might otherwise have looked like a rather pious and pedestrian verse. As SRF notes, the use of bhart kā gaṛvā deserves the greatest possible degree of 'fresh word' credit.

Note for grammar fans: The positioning of that kī in the second line looks to me very awkward. I asked SRF about it, and he replied (May 2017):

The kī is here a particle of categorization, where there are many things and you choose one of them. Like this:

mujhe botal meñ kī chāhiye, ghaṛe meñ kī nahīñ .

mujhe ghar kī chāhiye , bāzār kī nahīñ .

us kī tarkīb sāñche meñ kī ḍhālī hai , ghaṛī huʾī nahīñ .

I hope the matter is clear now.

Well, that helps somewhat in a general way. Certainly the kī , like the verb, must modify the feminine tarkīb . But I'm still not sure that I fully understand the idiomatic usage. Perhaps the idea is that the structure of her body is 'of a kind that' has been cast in a mold.